


The Lost Ingredient

by brocanteur



Series: To Bedlam and Part Way Back [9]
Category: Skins (UK)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-19
Updated: 2013-12-19
Packaged: 2018-01-05 03:08:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1088890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brocanteur/pseuds/brocanteur





	The Lost Ingredient

_"Today is made of yesterday, each time I steal toward rites I do not know, waiting for the lost ingredient, as if salt or money or even lust would keep us calm and prove us whole at last"_

 

 

For weeks, Katie has been running into Cook with weird regularity, and she's not entirely sure whether it's been accidental, or whether he's lonely and their meetings have been the product of his careful timing. Improbably, both JJ and Freddie have managed to keep girlfriends for longer than a month and so they've spent less time with the boy most likely to have a go at anything with tits.

"What? Are you fucking stalking me now?" Katie asks, the Saturday she happens upon him at Boots. It's the third time that week she's seen him in a totally random place. Previously: the coffee shop near Roundview, and before that Cabot Circus; he'd shouldered her as she was coming out of Topshop.

"I was gonna ask you the same, Katiekins." He holds up a box of condoms. "Purchasing essentials," he says, doing a swirling thrust of his hips, as if he really needs to drive the message home.

"And just _what_ is shagging you?"

"Whatever looks good. Partying tonight, yeah?"

"Yeah, I suppose."

"Effy coming?"

Katie raises a shoulder. She never knows how to talk about Effy with Cook, not in the casual ways friends talk about their boyfriends or girlfriends. She's relieved when he doesn't pursue the topic.

"I'll pick up," he says. "You interested, princess?"

"All right. So long as it doesn't fuck me up too much."

"Nah, man, just hard enough to make your teeth sweat."

She rolls her eyes, but when he doesn't turn to leave, just stands around, holding his box of johnnies, she asks him if he wants to get a kebab or something. He smiles, then, and they have a nice afternoon. He isn't an enormous dick, at least—he makes her laugh.

So they meet up, Katie and Cook—they have a pint or two at Uncle Keith's, sometimes they watch a football match. Katie learned quite a lot about the game during the half a year she turned WAG, and she still enjoys the sight of footballers' thighs.

Cook hardly talks about Effy anymore, not even when he's half-drunk and losing his smile, but the night of Roundview's final ball of the year—Katie's only there in an effort to lift Emily's spirits, but the room and the people in it seem only to drag her further into depression—Katie finds him outside, sat on a wall, legs dangling, the heels of his ancient, scuffed Oxfords touching brick again and again. He's high on something and he's holding a brown bottle between thumb and forefinger, staring at the label.

"Hey."

He looks at her and puts the bottle down, stretching out his hand so she can bounce up onto the wall beside him.

"Babe, you and your tits look mint tonight." She flips him the bird, but he continues with a wink, "Why'd you come out? Too intense in there? Too loud, yeah?"

Doug had taken over the DJ booth early in the evening. The last song he’d played as Katie followed Cook out was something old and boring, a some woman with a clear bell of a voice singing "We've Only Just Begun."

"Uh, intensely bad. I think Freddie was looking for you, by the way."

"Was he?" Cook picks up his bottle again and starts picking at the label with his thumbnail. Katie can't tell whether he's bored, or sad. "How's Emilio?"

"Christ, don't call her that. Upset, is how she is, but Panda forced her to dance and that made her smile, a bit. Then J.J. did some of his stupid magic, and--"

"Good old JJ, man. He's the best, you know? Well and truly the best."

"He's good for a laugh."

Cook nods, rubbing the bottle against the side of his face. He's quiet for a long time, and Katie's about to ask what's wrong when he says, "I'm going away."

Katie takes the bottle out of his hands and sips. Just beer. For a moment she can't speak, can't think much beyond: _This is how this goes. College is over, and this is how this goes._

She takes another swallow of beer but her voice is rough anyway when she asks, "For good?"

"Yeah. Maybe London. Or fucking Timbuktu, or something. Dunno."

"When?"

He shrugs. "Whenever."

"But what about...?" Katie stops. She doesn't know what to say, how to convince him there's more here for him than he thinks. Maybe there isn't.

So what she says is, "You have friends here, Cook. People who...care."

Cook smiles weakly. "Do I? I remember the day I met Freds—only this tall, and he'd just lost his first tooth. His mum was alive then. She was nice to me, even though she knew I was a bad influence. In, like, fucking primary." Pausing, he winks at her. Then he inhales sharply, and takes back the beer, drinks from it, and tosses the bottle without looking where it will land. In the distance, there is a shattering. "And then we met J.J, and he wasn't like anyone. He was special, but he needed to be looked after, too, so we did. We did, because he was our mate. The Three Musketeers, that was us.

Now Jay stutters a little less, and he's got a girl he's shagging, who really likes him, fucking loves him probably, and he doesn't need looking after. And Freddie, he's taller than all of us, yeah?"

"That doesn't mean they don't need you. You're a good friend, James."

He laughs at that—at both the name and the sentiment, probably—shaking his head slowly. "Nah, that I am not."

"But—"

His interruption is abrupt. "I'd knick her from you, if I thought I could. Just like that—no regrets. I did it to Freddie, and I'd do it to JJ. I am not to be fucking trusted, understand?"

"That's not true," she says quietly, because she knows about self-destruction, and this is Cook at his self-destructive best. "You wouldn't."

"I would, princess, but the Cookie Monster is giving up that chance. For fucking ever." He jumps off the wall and brushes dust off the back of his legs. "You're tip-top, Katiekins. Don't let the shit life throws your way make you forget it."

He holds his hand out and just as he'd helped her up, he helps her down. Close up, his face is open, vulnerable.

"Maybe you should sleep on it," Katie says, noting the darkness under his eyes. "I mean, what will you even do, when you're gone?"

"Same as here, I reckon. Different buildings and shit, that's all."

Katie nods, knowing she should say something, good-bye, or something, but she doesn't. She thinks only of the first time she met him, of how bloody obnoxious he was—a total, total dick. He isn't that, as much as he would like to be, as much as he proclaims it to the world in one way or another. And maybe she doesn't really know him in the ways people who are friends are supposed to know one another, but Katie is starting to think that's bullshit anyway. Everyone she has ever known has done something to belie what they're supposed to be. Her parents, Emily. Effy Stonem.

Cook is no different. Here he stands, ready to run away from his life, on the verge of starting a new one. His mouth is set hard but he blinks fast, avoiding the tears that threaten to gather in his eyes.

"If you do go, remember us, won't you? And if you need anything..." She stops when he dips his head, turning his face away from her, rubbing at his eyes with his forearm. "You have a good heart, James, and you should, like, live a good life, okay? You should do that."

When he looks up, his eyes are glistening, but he smiles at her, one of his old, shit-eating smiles. "I'll get on it. While we're giving advice, though..." he says, suddenly growing serious again. "Don't tell her."

"What?"

"That you love her. It'll do her head in," he says, driving a finger into his temple. "She doesn't want it, doesn't know what to do with it. To her, 'love' is a grenade you lob so you can pick over the wreck you've made. Love's a fucking disaster, Bedlam-type shit. So don't love her with words, princess, because even if she knows it down to her bloody bones—and she must, yeah? She must, the way you look at her. Don't matter, though, 'cause she'll brush away your words with fucking silence. On this, you can trust me. I have sodding hindsight."

It knocks the wind out of her, what Cook's saying. She stares at him for a moment, open-mouthed, knowing that he's right. He knows because it happened to him—he offered Effy his love and she ran away. That she ran straight to the person who hated her most couldn't have been a coincidence.

"You don't know how it started, do you?" she asks.

"What, between you and Eff? Can't say I haven't pictured it. In, like, 3-D." He puts his hands out and grabs at two imaginary tits.

"Perv," Katie says, swatting at his hands with little conviction. "I hated her, though. For Freddie, for Gobbler's End. For everything. And, then, I don't know... Maybe we just got tired of hating each other, and she's so... She's so much. I didn't want to love her. Loving her is horrible, Cook. I mean, I still try to remember how much I hated her and I can't anymore. I just fucking can't. " She makes a sound of frustration, and grits her teeth. And now she's the one turning away with embarrassment. "I'm so stupid."

"She likes you, probably the best way she can. That should fucking count for something."

They begin walking away from Roundview, and when they're at the road, they stop. At the intersection, Cook glances behind him. Katie will head in the opposite direction, back to the college and the people they both know and call friends.

"This isn't really good-bye, is it? You won't just... disappear?"

"’Course not, Katiekins. We'll be around, yeah? Pestering all the way from fucking Spain, or something. "

"Oh, Spain now?" Katie smiles, and Cook tries to smile back, a grimace that softens into something less painful to gaze upon. He'll disappear, she thinks. She won't ever see him again. _This is how it goes._

"Why not, yeah? Majorca. Up to my armpits in beautiful women. Why the fuck not?"

She imagines him, for a moment, frolicking with some Spanish girl, on a beach. He's tanned and smiling, really smiling, and nothing burdens him. Life's a lark. A dip in the ocean. Then she looks him in the face, as he is now, and the picture fades until it's as black as the road behind him.

"Go on, then," she says, hugging him. He hugs back loosely, but when she doesn't let go his grip tightens, and for a moment she feels his lips on the top of her head. "Go."

He slips out of her arms and gives her a little smile, sticks his hands in his pockets, and walks away. One arm sticks up into the air, and he waves. He doesn't look back.

Katie watches him until he's far away, small. When she gets back to the college, Effy's outside, arms crossed, cigarette in her mouth. When she sees Katie, she takes it from between her lips and drops it, leaving it to trail smoke.

"You left," she says.

"Went for a walk."

Effy nods.

"Cook's gone. I mean, like, forever."

"Is he? Forever?" Effy doesn't look surprised, but her expression shifts for a moment into something that approximates regret. "No good-byes, then?"

"He said he'd be back, but..." Katie shrugs, a strange jealousy surging into her throat.

"Right."

"Are you fucking sorry? I mean, did you ever love him?"

"Whatever that is," Effy replies.

"You must know."

"He was a dick, but he was a friend, too. I'll miss him, okay?"

It's no answer, not really, but Katie knows immediately she shouldn't have been pressing for one. She changes tack, dropping the subject altogether. She smiles at Effy, but Effy's not having it. Her arms cross again, and her gaze is drawn to the same road that swallowed up Cook.

"I think I'll go back inside now," Katie says, sounding too hopeful. Too eager. "You coming?"

Effy shakes her head, eyes downcast. "I don't think so. I'm... I'm going to go. See you later, yeah?"

"Should I...?" _Come with you? Be with you?_ How fucking desperate love's made her. Katie recoils at her own thoughts, and at Panda's sudden intrusion:

"Hey! Dougie's got the chicken dance! Come on, you two. It's whizzer fun!"

Katie feels frozen through. Effy murmurs, "Go on. Have fun." Then she kisses Katie on the cheek, lingering for a moment before heading away. Her boots are loud on the ground, and they echo even as the dark swallows her up, too.

And Katie stares. She stares into the darkness until Pandora beckons her into the din. In the far corner of the room, she sees Emily, her lovesick face a cruel reminder of what could be. Katie goes to her and says, "Stop it."

Emily's frown deepens. "What?"

"It'll pass," Katie says, taking her sister by the hand, leading her, forcibly tugging her, into the dance. Pandora beats her arms like wings, clucking and laughing. JJ pulls feathers out the front of Freddie's shirt. Thomas laughs.

"It'll fucking pass."

 

___

 

She drops the booklet on the pile of other exams, glances at Doug—when he smiles at her she wonders if he knows she's not Emily—and leaves the room. Her head hurts, but once she's outside the building, she takes a deep breath and gets a good look at her surroundings. The air is balmy, smells of sweet lilacs and freshly-cut grass. A shell-shocked boy is sat on it, on the expansive lawn in front of Roundview, trying to light his cigarette. She walks to him and says, "Here," as she finds her own lighter (Effy's).

"Thanks."

"Sure. All right?"

"Uh-huh. I think I did well. I mean, I did tons of revision. Surely I did well?"

She smiles at the question in his voice. "Good luck, then."

A couple ride by on skateboards, wearing matching black skinny jeans, battered Vans, and short, shaggy hair. They're moving at a snail's pace, and as they pass Katie catches the bloke saying, "Don't be a total bitch, Cynthia. I didn't..."

Katie inadvertently follows them down the path, no longer able to listen, but watching as Cynthia gives her boyfriend an icy glare when he tries to reach for her hand. They part ways when the path splits. Cynthia puts foot to pavement, speeding up, and riding north, away from the school. The boy takes a daring jump off the curb and nearly trips, the laces on his Vans undone, filthy, tangled. As he tries to sort out his mess, Katie passes him, heading toward a nearby coffee shop that serves tasteless food, and weak, lukewarm tea.

Effy is inside, waiting with an enormous, untouched cup of coffee. She's got her earbuds in, and her eyes are closed as she taps her fingernail against the tabletop. Her eyes stay closed when Katie slips into the booth and says hi.

"Hey," she repeats, touching Effy's hand.

Coffee sloshes into the saucer as Effy, startled, jerks her hand into a fist.

A brief cacophony fills the space between them before Effy turns down the volume on her phone.

"Hi. How was it?"

"Not as horrible as I had imagined it would be."

"We're done, then?"

"Yeah. Pretty fucking weird, huh?"

Effy makes a sound of assent, bending her head to take a sip of coffee. Her lips purse as she puts the cup down and pushes it aside completely. "It will be. But now it's summer and we get to pretend a bit longer."

Whatever Effy means by those words, Katie doesn't know. Maybe that they have time to go on as if nothing's changed. In a few months life will be different. They'll be adults out in the world—Katie's decided to take a gap year, but she'll work for her mum whilst she figures out exactly what she wants to do. Effy hasn't said anything about her own plans. Katie's been afraid to ask, just as she's afraid to broach the subject now. So, they leave the cafe, walking side by side, not talking very much at all.

Effy notices, and asks Katie if she's all right.

"Yeah. 'Course I am."

They keep on walking without destination. Eventually, they find themselves on a narrow back road. On Katie's left is a white-washed wall, its brick cracked in places by intruding ivy. She puts her arm out and lets her knuckles graze it. Effy's pulled her hair back, and she's carried an unlit cigarette between her fingers for the better part of an hour. They aren't lost, but neither are they anywhere familiar, after all their aimlessness, and Katie wonders what it would be like to be truly lost, out in a wood. They need only turn a bit, take a dirt path, surrounded by tall grass and flowering trees. Down a lonely lane they walk, and Katie, tired and thirsty, prays for a stopping place. Soon enough they find a bigger road, and then a bigger one yet, Hengrove Way, populated by fast-moving cars and few pedestrians. They come across a petrol station, and on the other side of it a McDonald's, where they stop and share an enormous Diet Coke, sat on the outside railing. A group of chavs drive by in a well old coupe, cat-calling, but Effy just flips them off, smiling at Katie as they speed away.

"Stick your chlamydia-dick in a shredder!" Katie yells. No one hears but Effy, who throws her head back and laughs.

"How sweet you are," she says, leaning over, hands still gripping the railing, to kiss Katie. When she pulls back, she runs her tongue over her lips. Suddenly, she's hopping off the railing, standing between Katie's legs.

Katie has only to dip her head and they're kissing again. Effy presses closer, putting her arms around Katie's back, clutching at her shirt.

"You haven't come over in a while," she says, a moment later. Katie's got her nails sunk in Effy's shoulders.

"I know. Bloody exams, yeah? Mum's got me running around, doing every little thing for her new business. And, whenever we go to your place, Anthea—"

"Hangs all over us. Sorry."

"No, but I mean, she is taking her Born Again Mother pledge rather fucking seriously."

"Another one of her steps."

"Is it better? Than before?"

"Maybe," she says, shrugging. "I miss... I like taking walks with you, Katie, but I could use a shag, you know? And as much fun as it is getting off at a club, or whatever, I do rather like a bed." She puts a hand on Katie's ankle and slides it up until it hits her knee, fingertips just this side of the hem of her skirt.

"Right," Katie murmurs, a sudden and growing ache between her legs. "Yeah, me too."

"We should go somewhere."

"Like, now?"

"No, I mean on holiday."

"Where? For how long?"

"Dunno. Maybe for the summer?”

"The summer? The _entire_ summer?"

Effy shifts so she's leaning back against the railing, next to Katie. Her gaze is set somewhere off in the distance when she nods.

"I can't leave for the summer."

"Why not?"

"Christ, Mum and Dad—"

"Katie," Effy interrupts sternly. "You're out of college now, okay? You can tell your mum and dad to fuck off."

"Yeah, well, I'm not like you."

"Jesus." Effy pushes away abruptly and starts pacing. When she stops and says, "Just come with me," there's so much desperation on her face, Katie is startled. "I've got money, okay? My dad gave me money and--"

Katie jumps off the railing, reaches out and grabs Effy's hand, tugging hard until Effy's forced to stand beside her. "Whatever," she says. "I mean, yeah, I'll go. Anywhere. Not for the entire summer, obviously, but..."

Effy looks so relieved for a moment that Katie forgets to breathe, just watches Effy swallow something down and smile. "London," she says. "It'll be fun."

Katie nods and, suddenly restless, asks for a fag. "You've, like, thought about this, then?"

Effy lights the cigarette and hands it over after taking a deep drag. "A bit," she says noncommittally, and it makes Katie grit her teeth because she knows Effy now, or thinks she does, and a bit can mean she's had this on her mind for fucking ages.

"So you just want to fuck off to London," Katie says, and she gives Effy a smile because the thought of it, the thought of them alone, away from Bristol and everyone in it, does have its appeal. "What will we even do there?"

"Whatever we want, Katie."

"And we'll, like, live together," Katie says, looking away from Effy's bright, hopeful eyes. She laughs haltingly. "You don't think we'll fucking kill each other?"

"Yeah, maybe," Effy replies, before her face cracks into a full grin. Sometimes Katie forgets, how Effy's smile has a way of making her chest contract with something like happiness. "But it'll be worth it, don't you think?"

 

\---

 

The day Katie realises--really, in a solid, fist-in-the-gut sort of way--that life as she's known it is over, Emily walks into their room and says, "I'm taking York's offer."

For the last few months, Katie's known, abstractly, that Emily applied and received several offers to universities scattered across England. The one good uni Emily did not apply to was the University of Bristol, and with that she had preemptively severed any possibility that she would be near enough to see regularly. Katie's known that, but hearing it said, that Emily's finally made her choice, still feels like a sucker punch.

"Oh," she says, glancing up from the magazine in her lap. "Uh, that's good, right? All the way in... York. I'm sure it'll be really fucking... great." She smiles, or tries to smile. She isn't sure what actually shows up on her face.

"Yeah. I mean, it will be."

All of this time, Emily's stood awkwardly by the door, looking in Katie's general direction, but not actually looking her in the eye. At least it isn't any easier for her, this uprooting. Even now, after all they've been through, Katie's impulse is to say something snide, something that will make Emily feel worse about her decision to move across England, to leave her, but it won't help anything, so Katie holds her tongue.

Instead, she says, "I'm going away. With Effy."

The words shock Emily out of her awkwardness. She straightens and takes a step into the room. "What? What d'you mean, going away?"

For a moment, Katie lets the statement hang without explanation, slowly turns the page of her magazine, allowing Emily to imagine a scenario where she does the unimaginable and runs away with Effy, not in the way Effy ran off with Cook--not in that way, because that was the stuff of children--but in a live-together kind of way. Katie herself cannot fathom it.

Emily stammers for a few seconds, then produces another, strangled, "Katie, you can't be--"

"Fuck's sake, you stupid cow. On holiday, yeah?"

"Oh.” Emily visibly, comically, relaxes. "Where are you going?"

"London. It was Effy’s idea."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I thought she'd say, I dunno, for a weekend, but she seemed pretty fucking adamant about the whole summer, which is ridiculous. We’ll probably do a week or two, I suppose."

"Can you afford it?"

"I've saved up some from my job with Mum. And Effy said she's got, like, loads. Guilt money from her prick father."

"Wow."

"I know."

"Did you tell Mum and Dad?"

"Are you fucking joking? And say what, exactly? 'I'm going on holiday with the girl who put me in hospital. She's my...'"

"You still can't just say it?"

"Whatever. I mean--girlfriend. All right? Happy?"

"Yeah, I'm just trying to picture Mum's face, when you tell her."

"I just won’t. It’s only a fortnight, yeah? I’ll say I’m going with Panda."

Emily laughs. "I'm sorry, I just--"

"No, I fucking know. It's bloody insane. I mean, I told Effy that we'd probably kill each other."

"Haven't you been getting on?"

"That's the weirdest thing, Ems. We really fucking have. I'm just waiting for the other shoe to drop."

Emliy's mood suddenly darkens--her smile vanishes and that horrible, hurt look she's been carrying around since Naomi dumped her reappears. She drops onto her bed like a deflated balloon. "I'm glad for you," she says, not sounding glad about anything in the entire universe.

"Maybe I shouldn't ask about her..." _And about when you might get over this. When you'll stop reminding me that this is the way of it._

"No, you shouldn't. Please. I'm really fucking trying, you know? To forget."

"Right. Sorry. So York, then?"

Emily's lips pinch together. "It's not me trying to get away, if that's what you're suggesting."

"Course not. I want you to be happy, Emily, even if it means not seeing you for fucking ages. Whatever makes you happy, okay?" She gets out of her own bed and gets in beside Emily, taking her hand.

"It only took 18 years for you to stop being a complete bitch," Emily says, tangling their fingers, squeezing tightly. She smiles. "Well done, Katie."

"Oh, I'm still a bitch, you're just less of an annoying arse. It all evens out, yeah?"

Emily's smile falters. "Dunno how I'll get on without you."

"You'll fucking thrive, I'm sure."

They speak words, in their secret, twin language. Words Katie didn't even know she remembered. They lie beside each other, hands clasped, and promise they'll be together always, no matter what.

 

\---

  
Anthea opens the door, fresh as a daisy, grinning from ear to ear as she steps aside to let Katie in. It's been close to a month since Katie's been to Effy's, but in the meantime she's heard all about Anthea's rejuvenation crusade: _New attitude, new body, new face, new me._

"Sweetheart, I'm so...pleased to see you. You and Pandora are surely Effy's closest..." She pauses and runs her manicured fingers through her hair. "Friends."

"Cheers. Yeah. You look, um, nice, Anthea. Going out?"

"I've got dinner plans," Anthea replies. Her forehead is as smooth as marble, and when she smiles, it doesn't wrinkle. In fact, her face hardly moves at all. "With a certain gentleman."

Katie opens her mouth to say something that may or may not be inappropriate--so often she isn’t sure--but then Tony Stonem's bounding down the stairs, his blue eyes twinkling with some untold delight as he says, "Katie! What a pleasant surprise."

 _Everyone_ , Katie thinks, _is surprised I'm still around._

"Tony, hi. Home for the summer?"

"For a few days, anyway. I've got a job in Cardiff and I've got to get back."

"His girlfriend's father is the manager," Effy says, leaning over the banister, near the top of the stairs. As always, she seems to have appeared out of nowhere. "I told him not to shit where he eats."

Tony glances back at her, sweeping his dark hair to the side as he says, "Not quite what that means, Eff."

"Close enough. Ask Mum."

Anthea swivels round like she's been hit on the back of the head. Her expression, half-frozen from Botox or fillers or whatever the fuck she's had injected into her face, nevertheless manages to betray a wild despair. "Elizabeth," she says, with a severity Katie didn't think her capable of employing.

"Forget it. I'm sorry, okay?" Effy comes down the stairs, brushing past Tony, avoiding her mother's continuing glare. She mouths the word sorry again, this time at Katie.

"This isn't the time," Anthea says.

Effy doesn't look at her mother. "No, it isn't."

"And you still won't come to dinner?"

"No, Mum."

Anthea looks at Katie, looks at her with shocking clarity; all this time Katie's been in the periphery of Anthea's alcohol-and-pill haze. This is the first time she's been in Anthea's sober cross-hairs, and it makes her uncomfortable. Anthea opens her mouth to say something, but instead gives her a wry smile, picks up her purse, and heads to the door.

Tony and Effy, meanwhile, are holding a silent conversation.

"You've got to let it go," he finally says, on his way to catch up to Anthea. "Let it go, Eff."

"What's happening?" Katie asks, when Tony and Anthea are gone.

"Nothing," Effy says.

"Don't do that."

A flash of irritation crosses Effy's face, but then she rubs her hand over it, and murmurs, "It's nothing, Katie. She just, she wants to talk about things I don't need to know. She thinks that laying bare her mistakes gives her the right to judge me for mine. So..." She raises a shoulder and motions for the stairs. Katie follows.

"Did you tell her about London?" Katie asks, once they're in Effy's room, so bare it's nearly empty.

"She doesn't want me to go. She said I should sort my shit out first. So I called my dad and he said he'd not only wire the money today, he'd consider renting a flat, as well"

It takes a moment for Katie to process the information. As fucked up as the situation is, Effy's certainly learned to turn it to her advantage. Now that Anthea's in the mood to put up a fight, Effy's able to pit her parents against one another. A flat... "In London?"

"It’s a possibility, anyhow."

The first thing that flies out of Katie's mouth is, "Maybe you'll meet Cook there." It isn't what she would've wanted to say, it isn't really what she thinks Effy wants, but if Effy thought Katie wouldn't be stung by her leaving, she's just seen an inadvertent glimpse of it.

The surprise of it is that it's Effy who seems hurt, at least for a moment--Katie opens her mouth to apologise, but immediately Effy's expression closes off so she's totally unreadable. She says, "Maybe I will."

The retort is like salt in Katie's wound, but she thinks that maybe she deserves it, so she bites her lip and doesn't escalate.

"Okay," she says, nodding, teeth digging into the inside of her cheek, a cruelty lodged in her throat.

Frowning, Effy giving her a questioning look, but stays quiet.

Katie resolves to lighten the mood: “It’s been ages since I’ve been to London, you know? All I can remember are, like, pigeons shitting on me at Trafalgar Square.”

It takes a few seconds for Effy to see what’s happened, the turn Katie decided to take in the conversation, but when she does the corner of her mouth jerks up, and her shoulders drop as her posture shifts from tense and wary to relieved.

“Then we won’t go there, will we?” she says warmly.

“Promise? It was pretty fucking awful.”

Now, Effy laughs, stepping closer, tucking an errant strand of Katie’s hair behind her ear. “Yeah. Yes, Katie, I promise.”

Katie shoves Effy’s London flat to the back of her mind, and swells with love all over again. Instead of saying what she’s thinking, she grabs Effy by the front of her vest and pulls her close. "How long before they're back?" she asks, kissing Effy's throat, her jaw, her lips. The vest is already half off and her hands are drifting up Effy's ribs, over her breasts.

Effy exhales audibly. "Who cares?"

 

Later, when they’re tangled up in bedsheets and lazing in each other’s arms--Katie’s got her head on Effy’s chest whilst Effy’s languidly strokes at her hair--Katie thinks of something horrible. She tries to let it go, but it nudges and nudges at her until she decides there’s nothing to be done but give in.

“I’ve had an idea,” she says, trying not to sound morbid about it.

Effy’s hand pauses mid-stroke. “Oh?”

“I don’t think you’ll like it, though. I hardly like it, to be honest. It’s just come to me now, and--”

“Say it, Katie.”

“Emily’s going away to York. I mean, for uni.”

“Yeah?”

“And she’s still--not depressed, exactly, I mean it’s been months, but she’s still hurting over the Naomi thing and I just-- I’m going to fucking miss her when she’s gone.”

Effy’s fingers begin threading through her hair again. “And you’d like her to come with us to London?”

“Dunno. Is that cool with you? I swear, Eff, dragging Ems around with us on holiday sounds miserable, I know but, Christ, the more I think of her being gone, the lonelier I get. She isn’t even bloody gone, and I miss her.”

_And now you’re leaving me, too._

For a moment, Effy’s quiet, like she’s thinking it through. She continues caressing Katie’s hair, slow and steady, and the feeling of it, so gentle, keeps Katie from looking up at her face to gauge her reaction.

“It’s cool,” she finally says. “I think it’s lovely, actually, that you’re thinking of her.”

“You mean instead of thinking only of myself, the way I normally would? No, trust, if it were up to my, like, id or whatever, I’d want nothing to do with being nice to Emily. I’d just drag you to London and we’d be alone for fucking ever.”

“Forever?”

Instantly, Katie regrets the words, wishes she could see the look on Effy’s face. It’s not like she’s gone stiff, it’s not like she sounds alarmed, exactly, but--forever. They’ve never talked about forever, not even close. _Fucking hell, I’m scared to tell her I love her_ , Katie thinks. _Forever? What’s that?_

“Or, like, ten days,” she amends, holding back a sigh. “You know.”

Effy puts two fingers under her chin and tips Katie’s head back, sliding her hand back along her jaw, to her nape.

“I don’t mind Emily coming along,” she murmurs, drawing her hand from her neck to the middle of her back and up again. “She’s a friend, and I’ll miss her, too.” She nuzzles Katie’s throat, sighs against her quickening pulse. “Besides, I’m sure we’ll have time to ourselves.”

Katie nods, swallowing hard. Sometimes, these moments--the tender ones, the ones that seem the way love must--are impossible to bear, so terrible she thinks she can feel rising within her, right in the middle of her chest, the urge to pick another fight, the way she used to when this seemed impossible, terrible.

“I don’t want to fight.” She says it out loud, her voice tight. Once it’s out of her mouth, she wants to hide but in the next moment Effy pulls back and looks at her, gaze darting across her face, searching.

“Where did that come from?” she asks, her brows knitting together, her hand on Katie’s cheek.

“I just... I like the way things are now, between us. I don’t want to go back, like, ever. D’you know what I mean?”

Effy keeps looking at her, but after another beat, she nods slowly.

“No,” she replies. “Neither do I. That’s over, Katie.”

“I know, but--”

“It’s over,” Effy reiterates firmly. “We’ve forgiven each other, haven’t we?”

Katie pulls her lips into her mouth, chews at them nervously. She nods and nods and nods.

“Of course, but I...” She stops, and this time the sigh that escapes from her is tremendous. “Sorry, I’m fucking emotional over Emily’s choice. I think it’s PMT or something. Ignore me, yeah?”  
Effy’s answering smile is tentative. She draws Katie in closer, face in the crook of her neck. “Okay,” she says.

And Katie just closes her eyes, wondering if she’ll ever have the right words, if she’ll ever be able to say them, or even if they mean anything, anyway.

 _I love her_ , she thinks, squeezing Effy between her arms, a fresh surge of wanting overtaking her. _I love her_ , she thinks, as she welcomes it, as she lets it guide her movements. This much she knows. This much she can do. She kisses Effy, touches her, and wills herself to forget anything else.

As they swallow each other’s breath everything else, _everything_ , fades.  


\---

  
The Fitch family are pescaterians this week, or at least that's what their mum claims. James detests fish, and Katie can only stand it if it's, like, fried--fish and chips, that's okay. But, a big, dead fish, poached head and all, is what's on the plate Jenna Fitch asks Katie to garnish as they get ready for the dinner.  
  
"Mum, you couldn't have made, like, I dunno, pasta?"  
  
"Omega 3, Katie. Essential fish oils, okay?"  
  
"I..." Katie doesn't know how to respond. Yes, Omega 3 and fish oil--so what? "I mean, this is so nasty looking. Bloody hell, its lips just moved!"  
  
Jenna gives her a look--cocked head, pursed lips. The look of a mother who has seen and heard it all and thinks you're behaving like an imbecile. "Make it look nice, then."  
  
"Mum, that's  _impossible.“_  
  
"Nothing's impossible, dear," her mum replies, in a tone so patronising Katie can't keep from rolling her eyes.  
  
She stares at the fish and the fish stares back, its pearly black eye judging her.   
  
When their mother leaves the room, Emily, who's been cutting tomatoes for a salad, says, "Explain to me how this is going to work?"  
  
“What? You don’t want to go? It’ll be fun, Ems. Loads. How long as it been since you’ve had any fun?”

“I dunno. I think I’ll feel like some sort of fifth wheel, yeah? And, to be honest, Katie--” She stops, makes a rough sound of frustration, puts down the knife she’s using to cut the tomatoes. “I dunno. I just don’t fucking know.”

“It’s been months,” Katie reminds her, not to be unkind, but to try and shake her out of it. “You have to move on, Emily.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Do you?”

“Yes.”

“Then don’t be a twat, and come with us, right?”

“I don’t want to sour it for you.”

“You fucking won’t. Look, you know that if we didn’t want you there, we wouldn’t have invited you. And,” she says, pausing at the crux of it, trying to figure out how to say it without looking completely pathetic. She throws a sprig of parsley on the horrible fish on the counter and turns to her sister. “Effy told me her dad might get her a flat. Like, _in London_. It didn't even cross her mind that the news might upset me."

“That’s-- Are you serious? She’s moving there, then?”

Katie shrugs. “It didn’t sound completely final, or anything, but yeah.”

“So maybe it was just a thought she had, something she wasn’t sure about? Maybe she was testing the waters?”

“Testing the waters? No, she seemed pretty fucking casual about it, actually. Like she didn’t think I’d care. Like she didn’t know it’d kill me.”

“Did you tell her that?”

“No.”

“Katie.”

“I know. I _know_ , okay? I just-- I’m waiting, I suppose.”

“For what?”

“Who knows. Maybe I’ll tell her when she’s on her way out the fucking door. ‘I love you. Good-bye.’ Shit, I’m so stupid.”

“You really are. She loves you, Katie.”

It’s so bluntly put that Katie is startled.

“Huh?”

“She does. Can’t you see it?”

“And that’s why she told me she’s bloody leaving? Because she loves me? Fuck off, Ems.”

Emily turns round and grabs the knife, starts chopping again, massacring the tomato on the wooden block. “There’s only one way to resolve this, isn’t there? If you won’t have a talk, you won’t ever know. Or you’ll know, and it’ll be too late.” She stops abruptly, pulling back her finger, bringing it to her mouth.

“Shit, you’ve done it now, haven’t you?” Katie asks, rushing to grab a bandage. “Is it awful? I’ll fucking faint if it’s awful.”

Emily shakes her head, puts out her finger.

When Katie’s got the bandage wrapped around it, they both look at one another and laugh.

“Jesus Christ,” Emily says. “Look at us. What a fucking mess we are.” She laughs a little, gives Katie a rueful smile. “Tell her, Katie. Will you?”

“Talking didn’t help you,” Katie says. “What good will it do?”

Emily’s wince barely registers. “At least you’ll know, yeah? At least you won’t have a fucking Sword of Damocles hanging over your head.”

“Sword of--? I don’t care about that. I just don’t want it to end because I’ve said the wrong thing.”

Emily gives her a long look, reaches out and squeezes her arm. “That’s the weirdest thing I’ve ever heard you say, Katie.”

Katie rolls her eyes, laughing at her own foolishness. “Yeah, I know. Who could have predicted this turn of events, yeah?”

“You aren’t giving her the credit she deserves, you know? She’s clever, Effy. She sees things. For all you know, Katie, she’s well aware of your feelings.”

 “No, but Cook said--”

 “ _What?_ Since when do you listen to what he’s got to say? He cocked it up with her, and you’re taking advice from him?”

 “Because he’s got experience with it, Ems. She ran away from him because he loved her. Same as with Freddie.”

 “No, she ran away from Cook and Freddie because they weren’t any good for each other. My God, Katie, you’re terrified, aren’t you?” Without warning, she wraps Katie in an embrace. “When you first told me you were seeing her, I thought it was a disaster. I thought that, on some fucked up level, you wanted her to hurt you. I didn’t know how to help you, and then I was going through my own shit and I forgot that maybe you needed me, too.” She leans away, back against the counter, letting Katie go. “But it changed somewhere, didn’t it? I mean that I see you together and I’m happy for you. So I don’t want you to fuck it up with your stubbornness, and don’t argue about it, you know what a mule you are.”

 “Ems...”

 “Just listen to me, Katie. There’s being smart, there’s being stupid, and then there’s being in love. It’s fucking irrational--when you’re in it, you can’t see your way out of it. You don’t want to see your way out of it. If you could, you’d drown in it, because it feels so good. It’s not love that messes you up, it’s being scared you’ll lose it. It’s the doubt and the fear that fuck you up, yeah? Stop being scared of it, Katie. Scared isn’t your colour.”

 

\---

 

Katie rings Effy later that night.

“What’s up? What did Emily say?”

“Oh, um, she’s coming along. I had to push it a bit, but I think she’ll have a nice time.”

“Good.” A pause. “What’s wrong?”

“What d’you mean?”

“You sound... I don’t know.  You sound off.”

“Do I? I think maybe I’m just, dunno, distracted? I’ve just been thinking about things, that’s all.”

“What things?”

“Like, about what I’m doing now that college is over. About how I’ll manage this gap year situation, you know? It’s bloody bizarre, being an almost-adult.”

Effy laughs. “Almost,” she agrees.

“What about you? Have you had...thoughts?”

“Thoughts? Oh, loads and loads.”

“About what you’ll be doing, you cunt.”

Effy laughs again. “Affectionate as ever, Katie.” A pause. “I did get a rather random email the other day from an old school friend. Never thought she’d ever do anything interesting, but she’s got some sort of internship lined up at this literary journal. She said they were looking for someone else to help out, and for some fucked up reason she thought of me. Said it was my sort of thing.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I don’t know what she’s on about. It’s just poetry wanking, as far as I can tell, but--who knows.”

“And where, um, where would you go for that?”

“Nowhere. It’s here, in Bristol.”

“Oh. And what about, what about...”

“London?”

“Yeah. That.”

“I don’t know, Katie. I haven’t a clue.”

Katie closes her eyes and nods, even though Effy can’t see her. She clears her throat, remembering she’s supposed to say something only when Effy repeats her name.

“Yeah?”

“Sure you’re all right?”

“Yeah, fine. I think I’m just tired. Maybe I need some sleep, yeah?”

“Mm. Okay. Sleep well, then.”

“Right. Thanks.” A pause. “Hey, Eff?”

“Yeah?”

“I... I’m excited about our trip, that’s all.”

A pause. A small sigh.

“I am, too. Good-night, Katie.”

Katie doesn't want to hang up. She wants to talk and talk and not say anything. She wants to hear Effy's voice until she falls asleep. She wants to wake up next to her. She wants not to feel the aching in her chest, the one she feels now, at the thought of being disconnected.

She says none of that. How could she?

“Good-night.”


End file.
